iPod Shuffle Challenge
by stormthebirds37
Summary: The iPod Shuffle Challenge! Or, in other words, I put my iPod on shuffle and write drabbles based on the songs. I will take song requests, though the majority come from my iPod. Mostly AU. Trigger warnings. More angst than fluff. Multiple pairings. If there are spoilers, there will be warnings.
1. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

***A/N since this is the first one I'm doing***  
**So, I might end up doing more of these, because I like the idea, but I'm going to be doing an iPod Shuffle challenge on Percy Jackson. I have no idea how long it's going to be, I have no when the updates will happen, but I have about 213 songs (I know I'm lacking) on my iPod so it'll be less than that! Wow that's vague. And they'll probably be short. Just drabbles, really. 500 words or less. **  
**Because I don't know what the songs will be, I'm just going to say VERY HIGH TRIGGER WARNING. Also, a lot of these will be AU shots. And lots of pairings, not all Percabeth. **  
**So, without further ado, here's the first one!**  
**Carpe tempore perfecto,**  
**-stormthebirds37, aka, The Reading Writer**

**Song: "Knockin' On Heaven's Door." -the cover version by Avril Lavigne. Original by Bob Dylan (am I correct?)**

She thinks the worst part is not being able to see him, not even in the state he was now. She just wants closure, the ability to say goodbye, but even that has been taken away from her.  
So she stands, staring at the empty grave that really shouldn't be empty because it tore a hole in her heart, and the emotions it stole had to go somewhere.  
The message on the grave is so full of bull, too. "Here lies Percy Jackson who gave his life to save many."  
No, she screams. No, he didn't, because it was an accident! You told me it was an unfortunate accident! He didn't save lives, he's wrecking mine…  
But then she knows she can't feel that way because he's her son, her freaking son, who blew up in a bomb somewhere in Afghanistan and they can't even find a body because no one was there to help him.  
No one was ever there to help him. She tried, she really did, but Percy just never seemed to fit in and she wishes now that she could've showed him that he did, he does, he always will…  
But he's dead, and she's alone, and there's nothing she can do about it.  
So she simply lays her flowers down on the gravesite, turns around, and begins to leave.  
But suddenly something's pulling her jacket and she slowly turns around to see a tiny boy staring up at her, wonder filling his eyes.  
"Hello, miss," he squeaks, and she just stares at him, wondering what he wants because she's never even seen him before. "Do you know him?"  
The boy points to a grave, to Percy's grave. If this was an adult she'd smack him, but it's just a child and children don't think before they act. So all she says is, "Yes. Yes, he's…he was my son."  
"One day," the boy says, "I'm gonna grow up to be big and tall, and then, I'll join the army and I'll be a hero."  
Her eyes widen and she steps back a little as she listens to him talk. Oblivious the boy continues, "But I won't end up here. I'll show the…the…tewwowists." She knows he's saying "terrorists" but she doesn't correct him.  
In fact, she's not even sure what she's doing until she's leaning down next to him and whispering, "That's not the way to do it. The way to help everyone here is to not go, to show that we don't need an army. To show that war must, in fact, end, because if it does than this place won't even need to exist, right?"  
The boy nods, like he understands, but she knows he doesn't. He's just a kid who doesn't know any better. She's not even sure why she's trying.  
But then, she is sure.  
"So don't go," she finishes. "One day, when you're big and tall, you'll have a lovely wife and maybe some kids of your own. And your mother won't want you to go, because what if you don't come back? You don't want her to miss you, do you?"  
He shakes his head and then suddenly he's running across the yard, yelling "Mommy!" again and again until his voice fades and she stands up, sighing.  
Maybe she couldn't save Percy. Maybe there's nothing she can do anymore but grieve and wish and maybe even hope.  
But she can at least make sure that that little boy doesn't have the same fate.  
Because Sally Jackson is strong.  
And she won't let death beat her, not just yet.


	2. Little Talks

**Song: "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men. **

**Pairing: Hazel x Frank (Hank? Haha)**

**Alternate Universe, Character Death**

"Frank, I just don't know," I whisper, my head down in my hands a silent tear falling down my cheek. I'm sitting on the roof of our house, my house, _the_ house and the wind whipping my hair doesn't even calm me the way it should. "I just don't…"

"You don't have to."

It's then that I hear him, standing behind me. I whip my head up to see his warm smile plastering his face but I know he's not really smiling.

He's dead.

I want to be dead.

But I don't know if I can.

"You're not real," I say quietly, but I can't draw my gaze away from his warm, brown eyes. "You're not real."

"You know I'll always be real," he says, his voice layered with comfort. "You'll always remember me. That's good enough."

"It's not, though." I don't know why I'm still talking to him. "Because I can't _feel_ you. I can't hug you. I can't kiss you."

"You know where I am," he says. "You know where I'll always be, yeah? You can come and find me…"

His image begins to fade and suddenly I'm screaming, yelling for him to stay. "I can't do it! I want to! I do, I do! I want to! But I'm just too _weak!_"

"Don't say that," he says sharply and I stop talking, I do. "I know you can. I miss you, Hazel. I love you."

"I love you, Frank. I'm tired of living without you…"

"Then follow me," he says, a smile creeping back onto his face. "And I'll see you soon, yeah?"

I nod, a smile on my face now, too. He's right. I need him. I can't live without him.

I'll die with him.

And then he's running and jumping and he flies off the edge of the building and fades, his silhouette merging with the setting sun.

And I take a moment to let the light in, to listen to the birds chirping, to the whir of the city, to the buzz of the bees. I smell the salt of the ocean, the pollen from the trees, the smoke from the cars.

I stare into the sun, watching as a cloud slowly covers the blinding light.

And as the light dies in the sky, I take a breath, take my last, and then I'm running too.

The ground feels springy against my feet as I bounce after each step, the image of Frank growing clearer in my mind. I feel the pavement against my shoes, and it's just one more step, just one more…

And then my feet run out of pavement and I'm falling, down, down, down.

Down.

The sun catches my eyes again.

As it goes out, so do I.


	3. Arms

**Song: "Arms" by Christina Perri (by request)**

**Pairing: Thalia x Nico**

**Sort of Alternate Universe, though not specified. Also sort of depression and mentions of past self-harm.**

**To the person who requested this (on ) - My deepest apologies if this isn't what the song is about! I had never listened to it before today, and I just put it on repeat a couple times, and this is what I interpreted just from that. So I suppose it's a sort of variation based on the principal meaning of the song. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!**

It's not that I'm scared of Nico. Honest. How could I be scared of him?

Maybe it's just that I'm scared of myself.

You know what, that's probably it.

I know how much Nico cares but maybe I just don't care enough? Or maybe I care too much and I'm suffocating him? Am I holding him too tightly?

Every time he tries to come near me, to help me, I end up pushing him away and the darkest part of my mind thinks that maybe he's just going to leave. And if he leaves…well, then what?

Then I'm nothing.

I suppose that's why I'm sitting here, feeling the cold bathroom floor beneath me as I stare at my phone, the silence deafening. He said he'd be gone for an hour.

That was five hours ago.

What if he's left?

What if he's cheating?

What if he thinks I'm not good enough for him?

You're not you're not you're not keeps racing through my head and old cravings keep coming back into my mind, but I push them away, I push them away…

I've texted him every ten minutes when the hour was up. I'm clingy, I know. But what if he's gone…?

He's helped me. He's helped me get through so many emotional toils in my life that I don't think he understands.

Maybe he understands too well and that's why he's gone.

Tears are sliding down my face as I try to avoid looking out the window. All I can think of when I look outside is where he could be and why he's not back yet.

There are too many reasons.

There's a razor sitting on the counter.

I haven't noticed it before.

Doesn't he know better? Aren't they all gone? Aren't they…? Hasn't he remembered?

Is this my punishment?

Just as I'm certain he's gone forever and maybe just picking up the blade won't be so bad the door's opened and then he's standing there, and I don't know why he even bothered to come back.

He stares at me for only a few seconds before he's suddenly coming forwards, throwing his arms around me and even though I'm not trying I'm suddenly calm.

But I should be angry.

I should be mad.

…Right?

"Where…where…" I can't say any more.

"It's a damn blizzard outside," he whispers, trying to sound gentle but he's angry. Did I do something wrong? I did, didn't I? Or is he angry at himself, like I am? "There was a traffic jam."

"I…phone…messaged…"

"My phone's dead. It's sitting on the dresser, remember? Shh…"

And something inside me just lets go and I sob quietly into his chest.

Even if I never had a proper home, maybe he gives me one.

**A/N - Ehh…well, thanks for the request, and I hope this is good…I don't know if it turned out exactly the way I wanted to, but still, thanks for requesting one!**


	4. 100 Degrees

**Song: "100 Degrees" by the Shout Out Louds. **

**Pairing: Piper McLean x Jason Grace**

**Warnings: Umm…major sadness? Yep, here comes another angst-filled drabble. How come I always interpret songs to be so sad?**

Jason's POV

Here's the thing - she actually tried to hide it.

Piper and I had been roommates for a solid year. We told each other everything, and we shared our struggles as we just tried to make it as up and coming musicians. I'd known her for years; we'd grown up together, and we always knew that we'd spend our years singing our hearts out.

Even when countless studios told me I was just missing something, or they weren't accepting people at that current time, but they might be in an a year, she was always there. We were in this together - that was what she always said. I couldn't picture her not being there.

And yeah, maybe I loved her for it, but now we'll never know.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grace, but the market just doesn't seem to be right for your sound currently…"

I'd heard it all before. I was in a recording studio, and I'd sung a couple of my songs for the manager, but he wasn't impressed. I sighed out of pure frustration after I shook his hand and gathered up my things. I really should've seen it coming. Maybe I just wasn't right for the music industry…

I was about to call Piper, to tell her that it was another bust, but I decided against it - I really didn't feel like discussing my failure. I would've gone straight to voicemail anyways - she never answered her phone until hours later. Yet, maybe I should've called - it would've delayed me for a second, a minute, and maybe that's all I would've needed.

As I was walking out of the building, ready to just go home and drown my sorrows in hours of aimless guitar playing, I heard it.

"Piper, it's so great to meet you. I think you've got something really special, and I'm here to discuss possible long-term contracts with you…"

I knew it couldn't be the same Piper, because Piper was shopping for groceries. That's what she'd told me. I didn't even want to look back - I would just be staring at someone who actually made it. But some form of paranoia inside of me made me turn my head for just a second, and as I pushed open the doors to get outside, I found myself looking right at Piper McLean.

She saw me to, and with some nerve I didn't know she had she smiled at me.

Piper got a recording contract, lied to me about it, and then pretended nothing was wrong.

And that's how I ended up here, standing in a bus station, Piper leaving for New York.

"Do you have to leave?" I whispered, inevitable tears stinging in the corner of my eyes. It was cold, and a chill was sweeping through the air, but I was only wearing a thin shirt and shorts. I hadn't wanted to come with her - it was too painful. But five minutes before she did leave I somehow ended up throwing on the first things I could find and following her.

"You know I do," she said softly, sighing, and watching the small cloud of breath that came out of her mouth drift into the air. "I have to go to New York for my contract."

"Yeah, but…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Aren't you…aren't you happy?"

No.

Should I be?

"Yes."

"You'll get your break, soon," she promised, and a dull roar of an engine told me her bus was here.

I bit my lip to stop from crying and stared up into the sun, hiding behind the clouds.

"Jason, are you crying?" she whispered. She'd grabbed her suitcase and was getting ready to get on the bus.

"No, it's cold," I replied, which wasn't convincing, but she didn't push.

"You'll find something," she said, backing up. "I know you will!"

"Bye, Piper," I said, although it felt like so much more than goodbye.

Sure, I was happy for her. She made it.

But she lied about everything. Everything.

And I don't think I can ever forgive her for leaving me all alone, without telling me why.


End file.
